


Radio Silence

by philos_manthanein



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Hate Sex, M/M, Silence Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philos_manthanein/pseuds/philos_manthanein
Summary: Deacon and MacCready aren't allowed to kill each other, so they fuck instead.





	

MacCready and Deacon don't get along. It's impossible, though they've never really tried to. They're too different and also too similar. It's just the perfect blend of abrasiveness to get under each other's skin.

Deacon hates that MacCready trades people's lives for caps, though he's also killed in exchange for what he finds valuable. MacCready hates that Deacon is a liar and a sneak, though he also lies and hides in high, shadowy places to ply his trade. They bicker about why one is the better sniper, and they hate how they secretly worry the other has more skill.

Even their mutual admiration for the Sole Survivor can't wash out their hatred of one another. That's just how things are.

It's obvious in the way they fuck, too.

All that tense energy had to go somewhere. It's not like they could kill each other, not yet anyway. They each have to begrudgingly admit the other is useful, if only because their morally ambiguous leader says so. So this act is their pressure valve. Trading violence for lust, though that line is often blurred.

MacCready is supposed to be the greedy one, but it's Deacon who usually ends up taking; On his back with legs wide, on his stomach with his ass raised high, on top riding while his thighs try to crush MacCready's hips. MacCready fucks him like he wants to hurt him, because he does. It's just his luck that Deacon has the nerve to actually enjoy it.

This time Deacon's on his back and MacCready has his hands pressing Deacon's shoulders tight against the dirty mattress they crashed onto. MacCready's fucking into him, hard and raw, trying not to make a sound. That's what started it this time, both of them claiming to be better at being quiet.

It's so petty. They're both so petty and stupid. Each one hates how they tear their worst traits out of each other for amusement.

MacCready has to pause, breathless, so he can bite back words he cannot say. Both because of his promise and because he's so close. He's always been twitchy and loud when he does, cumming hard and heavy.

Deacon knows it too, with that self-satisfied smirk on his liar's mouth. He's all sweaty and flushed and breathless too. His tight stomach is covered in strands of his own cum, because this is about a different kind of stamina. He looks really, really nice like that. His smirk only grows when he notices MacCready is staring at him.

It makes MacCready want to yell at him. He wants to tell Deacon he looks disgusting. He wants to flip Deacon over, shove his annoying smirking face into the filthy mattress, and fuck him until he stops breathing. But that's not the goal of the game this time. This time MacCready has to make him scream first.

So he tightens his grip on Deacon's skin, digging in his dirty nails and letting them drag. Deacon writhes under him, back arching up a little, seething but silently. It stings, will sting for hours just like his ass and hips always do, but he doesn't let MacCready win that easily. Not even when MacCready begins fucking him again, shoving his big cock so roughly into him it practically knocks the air out of Deacon's burning lungs.

Deacon holds the intensity of MacCready's stare. When he's sure all of MacCready's attention is focused on trying to burn him alive with his eyes, Deacon makes his move. He threads his arms up between MacCready's, using his elbows to knock MacCready's hands off balance so he slips forward. Deacon catches him, his arms wrapping around so his hands can twist as tight as they can into MacCready's sweat-damp hair. He wrenches MacCready's head to the side and bites into his neck.

MacCready's skin tastes like salt and dirt and, after a moment, fresh blood. Deacon can feel him shake, then tense up. Then it happens, the small pathetic whine he's grown so disgustingly used to. Deacon can feel MacCready's cock go tense inside him, pumping him full of cum.

Deacon feels so victorious he has to laugh. When MacCready's regained enough sense he growls lowly in defeat, right against Deacon's ear and it sends a shock of goosebumps over his skin. That just makes Deacon laugh more. MacCready leaves him to congratulate himself. They pull their clothes back on, pretending nobody ever notices how they both reek of sex.

Someday they won't have to settle their disagreements this way. When the battle for the Commonwealth is over, they won't have to hold onto this flimsy, transparent truce. Who knows what will happen then.

But they'll still hate each other.

They have to.

 


End file.
